Dark Damsel
by ShatteredAngelWings
Summary: She wanted to hate him. He wanted her to love him. How could they be friends when he literally made her life a living hell at school? Now, years later, they're forced to marry. But Alice has a dark, bloody past and Goyle's hiding something too under that sweet exterior…mentions of abuse, rape and EDNOS
1. Chapter 1

Original Typeset: Scala

Soundtrack: Confrontation from Jekyll And Hyde

* * *

01

'_Dear Miss Grey,__  
__As of recently, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, has signed and reinforced marriage law AI, as in section 4a, paragraph 6d, which states all unmarried Muggleborn witches and wizards ages 17-100 must find a half-blood or pureblood wizard or witch to marry. Failure to do so will result in a sentence to Azkaban. You have three months to find a suitor and marry. Within six years of the marriage, you must conceive two children._

_Ministry of Magic_

_Dolores Umbridge_

_Marital Relations.'_

Alice Grey contained the urge to scream as an owl pecked at her window Saturday night at 12:30 while she watched a Muggle horror movie. She crossed the room, hurriedly pried open the sticking window locks, and let the damp bird inside; it was a tiny little thing, with wide golden eyes and soft brown feathers that trembled violently from the harsh rain.

After setting the unfortunate animal near the fire, she untied the letter on its leg and read it.

'_Dear Grey,_

_As you know, the Ministry has passed the marriage law. Now, I know we have our differences but I would like your hand in marriage. Of course, no one else is going to offer their hand. Meet me at the Marital Relations office on Wednesday, 29th of October, 2012 at 8:30 AM.__  
__Gregory Goyle_ (the handwriting was too flourished so she had to squint to read it)  
_346 Lakewood Dr_.'

She growled under her breath as the owl nipped at her finger, reminding her it was there. She handed it a small treat, letting a smile crawl across her lips; she'd give Gregory Goyle hell on Wednesday.

To be honest, she was feeling nervous. She'd straightened her hair six times in a few hours, washed it even more, debated and leaving it a curly mass or to straightening it; she finished all the paperwork from Malfoy's new law firm in a fit of anxiety (she tended to throw herself into work when anxious) and decided to clock out early after telling her boss about Goyle's proposal. Her boss, Astoria Parkinson, married to Pansy Parkinson surprisingly, wished Alice the best of luck. "Goyle's a rough man," the lean, brunette told her as Alice fiddled with her hair in the mirror, immediately self-conscious of her curvy figure.

Alice decided to dress in a pencil skirt that hugged her thick hips just right, black wedges that made her legs look long and slender, and a black sweater that hugged her breasts and stomach and made her look voluptuous, less baby-fat pudgy.

"You look gorgeous," said Astoria reassuringly when Alice eyed her stomach critically. "I hope he likes curvy black girls," she said. "He does." Astoria was laughing as Alice slinked away, hiding her blush behind a curtain of hair. "If he gets too much, you know how to handle him." Astoria mimed something that made the other girl blush even more. "Chains and whips!" Alice closed the door, silencing Astoria's twinkling laughter.

As Alice drove downtown, she couldn't help but wonder if she really did.

oOo

The first thing Alice realized was that Gregory Goyle had changed. He was taller, over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an even broader physique, packed with muscle. His hair, short-cropped as it was, was dark and his eyes, brown like milk chocolates, made her shrink back inwardly.  
He towered above her, looking crisp in his business suit and loafers, not an inch of muscle bulging to be free from the confines of the suit in any place.

The suit itself was nice and a dark, dark charcoal with tiny, thin white pinstripes running vertically. It looked very expensive and very chic, making her feel two inches tall in her stupid outfit.

He was talking on the phone with someone, his tone hushed but obviously agitated. He rubbed his smooth jaw and then nodded, his eyes staring into the distance, dazed almost. "…I told you…no, move him to five…did you get those plane tickets for Japan?" She caught snippets of his important, authoritative conversation voice as she came closer, trying to remain calm and cool.

Did she look ok? Or did she look rumpled as ever, with fat rolls like usual? Or bumps where her hips tucked over the skirt or creases where her boobs stretched the fabric? Or did she have something on her face, in her teeth? Or did she have bad breath?

Alice shook her head as Goyle sighed, nodded once and said, "…just remind her to rest easy, I can't have her getting sick again…Tell her I love her."

Alice felt like she was intruding as he whispered the gentle words but couldn't but wonder whom was he talking about. With a short snap, the call ended and he slid his phone back into his trouser pockets.

"Gregory, you've grown up," she said, unsure of what else to say to him.

From what she'd heard, he was the CEO of a Muggle company that sold music labels and albums from both Wizard and Muggle bands and musicians and singers.

"That's what people tend to do when they realize they were extremely stupid in school," he answered, smiling softly. A small pang of hurt swelled inside her chest at the sight of his carefree smile, so carefree unlike her own dreadful life.

She slid on a mask as he turned to the clock, reading the time. Maybe she shouldn't have come here; maybe it was a stupid joke. Yeah. It probably was. Why else would he want _her, _the ugly duckling?

She turned away and began to backtrack her steps when he called out, "Grey, where are you going?" She kept her face calm and collected while her inner self curled up and cried for being stupid. "Leaving." If he wanted to play her, then she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Leaving?" A look of confusion and hurt crossed his face. "Why?" he asked. Her palms were sweating too much for her liking. "This is a joke. I don't like being joked on." Anger was pumping slowly through her thin veins.

"Alice," he said quietly, his voice saying her name making her heart stutter. "You obviously don't think very highly of me." A few strides brought him in front of her, his hands clenched, anger and pain in his eyes. "I swear, once we're married, I will do my best to please you. I'm a very busy man but what time I have left over will be dedicated to you, making you laugh and smile like all those years ago. I noticed you then and wanted you, even with the threat of war hanging over my head."

He stepped closer. His hands cupped hers, big white hands closed around her tiny brown doll ones. "I still want you. I still notice you. And I can make it happen. Just give me a chance. You're beautiful. So beautiful. Breath taking. What's made you so bitter, so cynical and acid-tongues?" His eyes searched hers.

"War. Life. Reality." She stared back into his eyes, his big, round eyes like a puppy dog. "Alice Grey and Gregory Goyle?"

Biting his lip, he turned and walked towards the receptionist, his hand in hers. His skin was rough and calloused, the hands of a working man, the kind of man who knew how to get his hands dirty.

Alice stared at their contrasting skin tones—no, at their clasped hands in awe.


	2. Chapter 2

Original typeset: Scala

Soundtrack: The Perfect STallion (Is Spike Remix0 by Assertive Fluttershy

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02

An hour later, the pair was officially married. The wedding rings on their fingers glistened in the sunlight as he held her hand, despite her protests. "Should we have a wedding?" he asked with a tiny smile. She turned to him.

"Whatever you want, Goyle." A look of disappointment flashed across his face. "Why are you so cold? I thought that was the guy's job in romance novels."

She looked at him and watched him stare at her so openly, with wide eyes. It made her want to smile, to laugh but she fought the notion. If he thought of her as the bad guy, the cold, distant lover, than she'd play the role, suit it perfectly. "Because I am."

His hand briefly squeezed hers as they walked into the parking lot and she forced the smile that wanted to show down into her toes.

"We can drop by my place. I need to get out of these heels." She was plucking at the sweater when she saw his face, cheeks bright red, as he openly appraised her. The skirt was a bit short, hugging her figure; the sweater was tight and made her look sophisticated. Her shoes were killing her feet.

"You look nice." Goyle's voice was strained as he openly ogled her. "You're beautiful," he added as an after statement. She ignored him as she opened her car and climbed into the driver's seat, surprised when Goyle scooted in. "What?" he asked softly, his eyes full of laughter and life and not anger and hate like hers.

"Nothing." She knew she was being brusque but she really didn't want to tell him everything that was swirling inside her mind. He'd think she was broken.

"Any boyfriends since Hogwarts?" He was fiddling with the radio station as he asked casually but there was an undercurrent in his tone.

"Why?"

She was rolling down the window; the air would make it easier to concentrate on something that wasn't him. "Because I want to know if you've been with anyone else." There was a hint of hesitation in his voice as he froze for a moment. "No," she said quietly as she shifted the gear stick into Drive and backed out sharply, barely glancing at the man in her passenger seat.

"Where do you live?" He was brimming with curiosity that rivaled Curious George's.

"In a house." She eased on the breaks at the red light as he changed from station to station, his brow furrowed in concentration. The light streamed in and slanted across his face, sending shadows across his features and making him look almost unearthly.

His eyes were brighter, vivid, brought into sharp focus and every eyelash was in HD, illuminated by the setting sun. She could see the sweat on his upper lip and the fine hairs of his eyebrows, the dry skin near his temple and a tiny cut on his jaw. The sunlight brought ever imperfection in his skin out. Every bump, indent, discoloration, scar, freckle, mole.

"Go. The light's green, Grey." She felt a twinge at being referred to by her last name even after all these years—especially now that they were married.

She pressed down on the gas and the car accelerated forward, wind whipping her hair and making her eyes water. "What's this?" Goyle had her CD in his hand, a rock band from her teenage years. He popped it in before she could smack it away and a loud beat vibrated through the car.  
The artist's voice had been amped up to be heard over the music behind it, the music itself was nearly defeating.

"This is awesome!" Goyle laughed.

Alice pulled her hair away from her eyes as they rolled up to a red light. A little girl stared at her from within a minivan. "She's cute, isn't she?" asked his voice in Alice's ear and she turned, glancing down inconspicuously at his now ringed hand and then back at his face, his warm eyes and cooled smile. He would make a wonderful father, kind and gentle and laid back.

She'd be the strict one, hard and tight and controlling. She waved her fingers to the little girl and the little girl clapped, seeming happy.

Alice really wished the seat would swallow her up when Goyle boldly placed his hand on her leg, on her skin, the cool metal on his finger biting.


	3. Chapter 3

Original Typeset: Melior double-space size 26

Soundtrack: Now you're gone by Basshunter

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and rape

* * *

03

The house was empty and devoid of any personal pictures, clues to who she might be. "It's so desolate, no pictures, nothing," Goyle said softly. "There's no need for that," she answered shortly, hearing him suck in a quick breath.

"Stay here." She kicked off her heels and padded barefoot down the hall, making her way into her bedroom. The dogs howled and pounced on her the minute she got through the threshold. She let them sniff her, smell the man on her skin, take in the scent and it slowly sank in.

She was married. She was married. To Goyle. Gregory freaking Goyle. Gregory Goyle who taunted Muggleborns and helped Malfoy make her life a hell…

She had been so naive, so very naive. Opening up, letting others in only ended in heartbreak and betrayal and lies. She stared at her reflection, despising the weak little girl she saw in her eyes. Her sweater was peeled away and hung up; her skirt clipped to a pants hanger and hung up in her closet.

She pulled on an oversized Harvard sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. She washed off her makeup and poked at the bags under her eyes from her sleepless nights. "Grey, you in there?" Goyle's voice floated in on a cloud as she tied up her hair lazily, opening the door with one hand.

"You look better without the makeup."

She turned to him in surprise, her cheeks warming despite the rush of realizing he was in her house, his hair tousled, shoes off, suit jacket lying on the pegs on the back of the kitchen chair. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off the hair on his chest, and his sleeves rolled up, revealing thick, hairy forearms that made her squirm excitedly at the thought of being wrapped in them.

"Shut up," she snapped without meaning to and he drew back, looking hurt. "If you don't want me here, than just tell me," he said softly, fighting, straining to keep the cheer in his voice. She turned away and went out the back door, ignoring him calling her name. The door slammed behind her. Noticing hands were shaking, she stuck them in her pockets. The cool, summery breeze filled her lungs as a dog barked somewhere.

_Stupid, _she told herself quietly. _He isn't like Joshua or Nicolas. _She scrubbed her face with her sleeves until she could feel the blood weld up under skin. It felt raw and sensitive under her trembling fingertips. She felt like crying but crying was weak—and Alice Grey wasn't the weak, crying little girl who'd gone through several horrible, scary relationships.

Alice Grey simply did not cry.

oOo

It was dark when she made her way back home, moonlight guiding her. Her hands hadn't stopped trembling since she left the house in a storming rage and even now, five hours later, they refused to lay still. She twisted her hair and brushed it back and yanked on it but all that did was give her a horrible headache.

She noticed all the lights in her house were gone and hesitated, her hands trembling worsening. Sucking in a deep breath, and clenching her fists, she forced calm on her face and opened the back door. The first thing she saw was Goyle. He was in the kitchen, staring down at the floor.

"Hello, Goyle," she said in what she hoped was a cool voice and his head snapped up, his bleary gaze meeting hers. "You came back?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse. She nodded and he swept forward and then she felt his body smash against hers, trembling violently.

Something wet hit her shoulder and she slowly realized he was crying. "I thought I lost you…right when I got you, I thought you left me." She squeezed her eyes to shut out the memories that surfaced but it was no good; God couldn't have stopped them.

_She felt Joshua's arms tighten around her, his crying face buried in her shoulder. His chest was warm and his skin hot against hers as he trembled. "I thought you left me," he sobbed as he clutched her hair in a painful grip. He suddenly was kissing her, his mouth hot and desperate and bruising on hers. _

She was pushing Goyle away and her legs buckled. Damn, he had to see her _now_? His voice rang in her ears as the memory shattered to pieces, exploding in her brain like glass. She squeezed her hands into tight fists and breathed heavily through her nose, not realizing her nose was dripping blood down her lip.

Alice shook her head when he gave her questioning look. "Some secrets," she said quietly, "are heavy enough to drown me. I'd rather they not come into the light." He pressed a napkin against her lip, dabbing away the blood tenderly, his fingers shaking at her reaction.

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and took the napkin from him. Her mouth tasted metallic, like blood and tears.

Funny, she didn't remember crying. She pressed the napkin against her nose and stared Goyle down until he understood that it would be a while for her to feel comfortable around him, to open up.

"Should I go home?" he asked quietly. He sounded downtrodden like a disappointed child. She shook her head and winced as the memory bounced back, another man in place of Joshua.

_"Should I go _home? _You _are _home." His hands were bruising her throat as his teeth bit down on her lip. She could taste the blood on her teeth but she deserved it; she should've called him like she was supposed to because that was what good girlfriends did. She deserved every kick and punch he gave her; she was worthless to him anyway. _

_He loved her and he was making her a better person. He was doing this because he loved her. And the evidence was poking her in the thigh._

_"Show me," he whispered, lips gleaming with her blood, eyes hungry and sizing her up, "show me how much you love me." _

Alice was faintly aware of Goyle's hands around her, tugging her along a hallway. Her brain was slow, sluggish; shards of pain were still inside of her head. "I never meant to hurt you." How many times had those words been whispered as her lover kissed away her bloody wounds by his hands? How many times had she whispered those words to an angry lover?

_Her fist came in contact with Alice's ribs. There was a gush of blood in her mouth. The beating continued as Alice curled up in a pathetic little ball and let Miranda rain her wrath down on her body; all she could hear was the screaming. _

_"You wretched, little bitch!" A kick to the back of her head made Alice curl up tighter, tears dripping down her swollen cheeks. "You said you'd come _right _home!" Miranda's hand found Alice's short hair—she'd worn it short because Miranda liked it better short—and yanked Alice up, back-handing her. Alice let out a soft cry and then Miranda dropped her. _

_"Oh my god, baby, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just…I lost my temper." Miranda was kissing her and hugging her and crying all over her nice, silk shirt. _

It was only as Goyle pulled back the covers for her that Alice woke up from her memories.

"Don't—" She said quickly, her voice failing her slightly. Her hand was so tiny around his wrist; it barely circled it. Or maybe his wrists were unusually thick. "Don't leave me here alone," she whispered, hating herself for being so weak, so vulnerable.

There was a soft, gentle smile on his pink, pink lips. "If you don't want me to leave tonight, I'll stay here until the sun rises." He stroked her face and she turned away, her brain flooding with the horrible memories of a hand touch her face, stroking it at first and then, in a flash, it was a hand sailing at her face, aiming to hurt.

He tried not to let his disappointment show, she knew by the way he tried to brush it off. Exhausted, she climbed into bed and then scooted some, ignoring all the warning bells in her head.

"Sleep next to me, Goyle."

He did as she asked and his muscular, hair arm draped over her waist as his chin nestled in her shoulder. Maybe she was too tired to care that he was touching her or maybe she didn't want him to stop but she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She could hear him, before she fell asleep, whisper, "I'll protect you. I love you."


End file.
